


The Lioness and the Kitten

by oceanree



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanree/pseuds/oceanree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly attends her own birthday party at Sherlock's flat and she makes a new friend.  The friend's name?  None other than Irene Adler.  Is friends all they'll ever be, or will it sprout into something more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

Molly was a girl who liked to make people happy. She didn't particularly like saying no. This has led to some very unfortunate events in her life, as well as some very fortunate ones, but even so she wears a smile and tries her best to be optimistic. Generally, it worked.

The brunette woman, though certainly more of a girl at heart, had been dragged with John and Sherlock to a sort of get-together. Nothing major, John just wanted to introduce all of his friends to each other and maybe get Molly some friends. It was, after all, Molly's twenty-fifth birthday. She'd forgotten. She didn't usually think of herself.

Molly was currently sitting on the balcony outside of John's room, nibbling away at a salad. The feeling of the wind in her hair and against the fabric of her floral-print shirt was refreshing. She enjoyed it. Her fork spun around aimlessly in her plate. She didn't realize she was being watched until the person spoke up.

"Well John certainly has good taste in women." The voice was sultry and womanly. Molly tore her gaze from the setting sun to look at the source.

"Pardon?" She gave a nervous smile. The thin woman sat across from the slightly thicker one, crossing right leg over left.

Red lips pulled into a half-smirk. "I knew you weren't his. He doesn't seem too fond of short ones."

Molly was confused, but nodded so it looked like she understood.  "What's your name?"

"Irene."  The voice finally had a name.  "Yours?"

"Molly."

"As expected from such a doll."  She reached across the table to brush her fingers against Molly's hand, which was now flat against the table.  Molly seemed bewildered.

The two shared a silence.  It wasn't awkward, not really; it was comfortable.  At the exact moment Molly opened her mouth to start more conversation, Lestrade came out, a bit more than tipsy.

"You gots to get in here, Sherlock's dancing!"  He slurred, waving a bottle of chardonnay in the air.

Irene gave a light chuckle and stood, taking the other woman's hand and leading her inside.  All Molly could do was smile and go along with it, per the norm.  The taller, thinner woman and the shorter one had some conversation.  They sat with each other on the sofa, Irene's hand resting on top of Molly's, which was on her knee.  Questions such as, "How old are you?", "hobbies?", and "single?" were thrown about before the topic of jobs came up.

"Wait, so you're telling me someone as innocent as you gets to touch dead bodies all day every day?"  The tone in Irene's voice was incredulous; she couldn't believe it.

"That's coming from a dominatrix!"  Molly exclaimed with a simper before quieting down.  "What sort of things do you do as a dominatrix?"  She asked slowly.  She was curious, yes, but she'd been warned about that type of girl.  Irene wasn't rude though.  A bit snarky at times, definitely flirtacious, but definitely not trouble.

Irene's mouth formed half of a smirk.  "Anything and everything, doll."  Her voice lowered, more silky now.  "Riding crops, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, ropes..."  She snorted at the red colour of the girl's face.  "Never done anything exciting in bed before?"

She just shook her head shyly.  Honestly, she'd never gone past second base with anyone, let alone a girl.  "I usually room with guys."  She chimed, hoping it would explain.  Irene sighed with a smile and shook her head.  Her fingers stroked the back of Molly's hand.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

It was late afternoon when Molly finally awoke.  She rolled over onto her back, and every muscle in her body ached in protest.  She whined at the feeling.  Great.  A hangover.

She opened her eyes and was met with a room that was most definitely not her own.  Who did she go home with?  She darts her brown eyes around.  The light burned, so she just closed them and rolled onto her side again, ignoring the pain, and pulled the blanket over her head.  Whoever it was, she wasn't getting out of bed to find out.  That required too much effort.

The door opened and the soft pit-pat of bare feet on hardwood floor only made her aware of her prickling head.  God dammit.  Her eyes stayed shut.

The mattress shifted and suddenly there were arms around her, hand resting on the back of her head.  The fingers dragged down to her chin.  "Open your eyes, doll."  Oh, that's who it was.

Molly obeyed, eyes fluttering open slowly.  She searched the woman's face for any signs of previous seduction.

"We didn't do anything... naughty, did we?"  She asked a bit of fear in her voice.  Irene gave an amused chuckle.

She pressed her lips a mere inch away from Molly's ear and whispered.  Molly could feel her hot breath, and she shivered.  "If I wanted to, I could have you right here, right now, in a heartbeat..."  Her tongue flicked against the other's earlobe and she pulled back.  She laughed slightly as Molly was once again red.  "But no, we didn't."

"Oh.  Uh, good, then."  She said.  Upon realizing how that sounded, she rushed to correct herself.  "I-I mean, we've only just met."

Irene nodded and held Molly closer.  "Just be quiet and hug me.  It's cold and you have a hangover."

She obediently draped one arm over Irene's waist.  They stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon and even that night, each of them dozing off a little.  Molly was thankful for this; she didn't feel like moving at all.


End file.
